


let's patch you up

by Chokingonholywater



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, bev and eddie are cute and get each other, theyre PALS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21995260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chokingonholywater/pseuds/Chokingonholywater
Summary: These days were her favorite - away from her father, her chores, her house. Nothing but the blue sky and the breeze and her friends, whoever she might see. Not that she was expecting to see anyone at the clubhouse this early, Bev thought to herself as she squeezed the brakes on her bike. It was a short walk to the clubhouse, and an even shorter drop into the hideaway they'd created.“Shit!”Bev couldn’t keep the word from slipping out; it turned out she wasn’t alone in the clubhouse.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Beverly Marsh
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	let's patch you up

**Author's Note:**

> this is a challenge from tumblr to write a scene from a fic from another pov - thank you ro for requesting this scene! it's a rewriting of a scene from chapter 5 of my fic, hearts grow fonder. for context, eddie had a huge fight with his mother and tripped while running to the clubhouse, where he had a sort of panic attack.

The day was warm, sunny and pleasantly breezy. Beverly didn’t rush as she rode down the street towards the clubhouse; why would she? She was free to do whatever she wanted for the day, and the sun was shining, and school was done, and she was free. There was no reason to rush, and every reason to enjoy every moment.

The wind drifted lazily through her hair as she pedaled towards the Barrens and Bev couldn’t help but grin. These days were her favorite - away from her father, her chores, her house. Nothing but the blue sky and the breeze and her friends, whoever she might see. Not that she was expecting to see anyone at the clubhouse this early, Bev thought to herself as she squeezed the brakes on her bike.

It wasn’t even close to noon yet, so the clubhouse would still be quiet. Bev didn’t mind being alone in the clubhouse, though; maybe she could read a comic book for a while, or just sit in the hammock and listen to the radio. Richie and Eddie usually claimed it when they were there, but this early, and with Richie gone at camp - Bev grinned, dropping her bike in its usual spot. Yes, it was a good day for sure.

Just like her bike ride, her walk through the trees was casual. She paused to admire the way the hazy light of the late morning drifted through the trees into lazily shifting patterns on the ground. She stopped to listen to the birds, wondering if Stan would be able to tell her what they were (he would, she knew). It felt nice to simply breathe, away from judgement.

It wasn’t a long walk to the clubhouse, and Bev got there quickly. She absentmindedly yanked on the handle to the clubhouse, hidden to everyone but the Losers. It gave easily, the hatch flipping open to reveal the hideaway they had so carefully crafted. Bev smiled, stepping down onto the first rung. She didn’t watch her boot-clad feet as she descended, instead opting to watch the blue of the sky and the clouds that seemed too perfect to be real. With the practices ease of someone who had done the same things dozens of times before, Bev skipped the last two rungs of the ladder and instead jumped to the ground.

As she landed, a bird flew across the small square of sky that was still visible from the clubhouse. Bev watched it go, feeling light.

Now, to find a comic book, or some other way to kill the ti—

“Shit!”

Bev couldn’t help the word from slipping out; she wasn’t alone in the clubhouse. There, curled against one of the support beams, was...

“Jesus, Eddie,” she breathed, her momentary fear settling as she realized it was only him. “I didn’t expect anyone to—“ She paused briefly, brows furrowing as she took in her friend’s appearance. “Hey, you’re bleeding.”

She could feel her momentary scare melting into concern. As she drew closer, she could see more clearly the bright red scrapes on each of Eddie’s knees, and the crimson drops that had rolled down his shins towards the arms that were wrapped around them. Eddie seemed dazed, as though he had just realized he was bleeding, too.

He let out a sound that Bev was pretty certain was supposed to be “Hey,” but it was muffled and thick. She could tell he had been crying - not just from his gooey voice, but his eyes were red and shiny. Bev crouched down on the ground next to him, reaching out to see if he was alright, to help him. She paused just before she reached him, suddenly realizing he might not want her to touch him.

He was in rough shape, she could tell that much just from looking at his glassy, tired eyes and the blood that was nearly dripping into the tops of his socks. Bev could feel the warm weight of concern settling in her gut as she looked at him, really looked at him.

Deciding not to push, she drew her hands back, asking, “What happened?”

Eddie seemed to consider this for a moment, his mouth opening slightly and then closing again as though he’d changed his mind. He looked away from her gaze, then said, “I fell.”

Bev blinked. This was surely true; it made sense with the scrapes on his knees, but she could tell it wasn’t the whole truth. Eddie was a lot of things - the medical expert of their group, the one most likely to be afraid of the bacteria in the water at the quarry, her friend with the most knowledge of germs and what they do and how they might enter the body - but weak wasn’t one of them. Sure, Eddie might be more prone to a moment of panic at an injury if it wasn’t cleaned up right away, but he wasn’t any less strong than the rest of them. He could take a hit as well as any of them, and had taken several nasty ones from the Bowers gang without shedding a tear until they were gone.

A fall off of his bike or tripping in the woods wouldn’t make him act like this, and Bev knew it. The fact that he hadn’t cleaned himself up yet was a sign, too - it wasn’t like Eddie to leave a scrape uncared for. Bev sucked in a sharp breath, but knew that he would say whatever was really on his mind when he was ready, if he wanted to, and she couldn’t help him with that unless he chose to talk about it.

What she could do was help him get cleaned up, so she said as much.

“I’m gonna get you some bandaids, okay?”

When Eddie nodded, just the smallest motion of his head, she got up from the ground and moved towards the drawer where she knew they had a sort of first aid kit. She hummed absentmindedly as she looked through the drawer, sifting through playing cards and random pieces of paper until she found the plastic bag that served as their first aid kid. It had been Eddie’s idea - of course it had - to make one up; it wasn’t anything fancy, just some bandaids and gauze and a pair of rubber gloves inside a sandwich bag. “Just in case,” he’d said, and they’d all agreed. Just in case.

She shut the drawer, turning back to Eddie. She paused for a moment, then grabbed the box of tissues on the bookshelf, too.

Bev crouched back down next to Eddie, extending the tissue box to him without a word. He took it, then grabbed a tissue and scrubbed at his eyes.

Politely not watching as he dried his tears, Bev opened the bag and pulled out a large bandaid. She peeled it open, dropping the wrapper next to the discarded tissues.

“Is it okay if I—?” She held the bandaid up between them.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice was quiet, but more clear than before, and it was enough.

Bev worked quietly, grabbing a tissue to dab away the blood that had dripped down Eddie’s leg. She used a piece of gauze to clean up the actual scrapes, cleaning each one up as best she could before gently covering each knee with a bandage. She hummed still as she worked, trying not to press to hard and hurt Eddie any more than he was already hurting.

After his knees were as patched up and clean as she could get them with the meager supplies she hand, Bev held out her hands, palms up, and looked at Eddie expectantly. She’d noticed bloody prints left on his leg’s from where his hands had gripped them, so she assumed that he’d scraped them when he’s fallen.

Eddie realized what she wanted and held out his own hands to her; they were covered with a mess of tiny scrapes and cuts. Bev felt another pang of concern - why had he just been sitting here? Why hadn’t he helped himself? - but she simply took a clean tissue and dabbed away the blood and dirt on Eddie’s palms as gently as she could. Before she could drop the bloody, crumpled tissue onto the growing pile, Eddie’s fingers closed around her wrist.

She thought, for a moment, of her father, who was so fond of doing the same thing. This was nothing like that, she reminded herself. This was Eddie, just Eddie, and his grip was loose, not demanding. It wasn’t a trap, it was a thank you; a gentle pressure to say “You’re here, now, and I’m grateful.”

Bev looked up Eddie, and she could read the matching gratitude in his eyes. There was also a pain there, so poignant that it made Bev ache, and without thinking, Bev tugged Eddie towards her into a hug.

Eddie seemed caught off guard, tipping awkwardly into Bev. His chin hit her shoulder, and he turned his head so it was resting against it instead. He’d let go of her wrists, so Bev wrapped her arms gently around him, their knees awkward between them.

Eddie pulled back after a moment and Bev let him; he looked a bit less pale, which was encouraging.

“Thank you,” he said, and Bev could hear the depth in the two words. She smiled fondly back at him, standing up to put the first aid kit away.

“Guess you should be the doctor of the group now,” he added, returning her smile weakly. Bev knew it was a joke, an attenpt to diffuse the tension, but she also knew him well enough that this was his tentative way of controlling the situation: if I say it first, it will hurt less when she says it. If I call myself weak first, then she won’t have to do it.

Instead of going along with it, Bev said, “Well, without your first aid kit”—she held up the bag as she zipped it—“I wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

She turned around to put the bag back in the drawer where she’d found it, but she didn’t miss the ghost of a smile on Eddie’s face at her words.

“So,” she continued, “I think your title is safe.” She tucked the bag back in the drawer, resting her hands on its edge. She turned to look at Eddie over her shoulder, hoping her tone held the depth of her meaning, as she said, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Bev turned back to the drawer, rearranging a few things so it would close smoothly. She shut it after a few moments, turning back to Eddie just in time to watch as his face dipped into a pained frown and a small sob bubbled up from his gut. It sent a jolt of sadness through her to see the expression on his face.

“Eddie?” She asked, tentatively. Bev moved back to where he was, sitting down criss-crossed in front of him. “Hey. What happened?”

She made her voice soft, as soft as she could. She didn’t want to pry, but she hated to see him in pain like this, and to hold that weight alone - no. Hopefully he would know that he could talk to her, that she would listen and never judge him.

She watched as he blew his nose, waiting. She could feel the nervous energy rolling off of him in waves, heavy and tense as he grappled with her question. Bev was almost ready to tell him it was okay, he didn’t have to say anything at all, when he finally spoke.

“It’s just - my mom.”

Bev felt her breath leave her lungs as though she’d been punched. A hot spike of anger pierced her as she looked at Eddie, still curled up small and avoiding her gaze. His mother - his mother—

“What did she do?” Bev breathed, not really certain she wanted to hear the answer, that she wanted to know what her friend’s mother had done to leave him short of breath and blotchy faced and glassy eyed and hurting.

Eddie hesitated again, and Bev decided that she would hear whatever it was, no matter how hard it was. It was clearly difficult for Eddie to say, so she would listen, and she would hate every moment, and she would be there for him anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading :D if you liked this but havent read hearts grow fonder, go check it out [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20354902/chapters/48266704)!


End file.
